


You Can Hear it In The Silence

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Twitter Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4008352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack’s glowing a little as he convinces Ransom to set Bitty back on the ice. At first Eric thinks it’s because they’re all drunk on victory, but he recognizes the look.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Hear it In The Silence

The buzzer sounds and everything is so loud that it feels quiet. Eric grinds to a stop in front of their goal, where Chowder sounds like some kind of supercharged alarm clock. The boy doesn't seem to know what to do with himself and the knowledge that the buzzer is blaring in the background. 

_Did that really just happen?_

That's when Eric gets tacked from all sides because he made the last goal and  _they've just won the NCAA Hockey Championship._

Eric is sitting on the ice and he doesn’t even care right now. He can’t find it in him to give a shit.

Nursey is pulling him up by his shoulder  and as soon as he’s standing he’s being picked up and placed on top of Ransom and Holster’s shoulders. Even with seventy pounds of equipment, he’s still light enough for his friends to skate like this. 

He looks around, because he can’t find Jack, until he sees that Jack is just to the right of him. At first, Eric is concerned. He’s not sure what it'll do for Jack, as he didn’t shoot their winning goal and he's the one going into professional hockey, but Jack looks really happy. Jack’s glowing a little as he convinces Ransom to set Bitty back on the ice. At first Eric thinks it’s because they’re all drunk on victory, but he recognizes the look. 

_Oh._

They’re busy right now. Jack’s captain. He has to talk to the media. Reporters are going to want to talk to Eric because he scored the winning goal. They’re going to want to talk about the team dynamic and then they get the trophy they’ve earned through blood, sweat and tears. There’s no time for that right now. No time for Eric toonly now realize that Jack looks at him like he’s been in the cold forever but Eric is like sunshine warming him through to the bone. It makes Eric feel like he's going to burst and he loves it.   

He manages to hold his tongue until they get into the locker room. Everyone on the team is still patting him on the back as they pass but Eric manages to quickly change and tug off his equipment before everyone else. 

He taps Jack on the shoulder. “When you’re done,” he says in a low tone, “I’d like to talk with you. Maybe out the back?” 

Jack looks confused, but he nods anyways and Eric ducks out. It’s chilly back behind the rink and it reminds him of Faber,  where Jack takes phone calls and Eric would be lying if he said he didn’t just go there to think sometimes. Jack joins Eric a minute or two later, looking sharp in the suit he’s wearing. “Is everything alright?” He asks, long vowels kissing Eric’s ears. 

“I think so.” Eric says. “We’ve got to be quick, but would ya be alright with me trying somethin’?” 

Jack nods, his eyes careful on Eric for the moment being. 

Eric stands on his toes and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Jack’s lips. Jack melts and a smile blooms on Eric’s face. 

“Please tell me you’re not just happy we won and I got that right.” Eric says with a nervous laugh.  

Jack smiles he leans down and firmly kisses Eric’s cares away. “Bitty.” He says. “We have to go back inside.” 

Neither of them can really be disappointed about the fact. “Later, maybe?” Eric asks. 

Jack surges down for another kiss, like now that he’s started he won’t be able to stop. “Definitely, Later.” 

Eric holds out his hand and they walk inside together.

 

The ride home, they sit in the same aisle together and talk for hours. At first they're concerned that any little thing they say will screw them up, but they're close enough friends that talking is the best way for them to make this work, even if it's a little awkward at first.  They're going to quietly be together, but not a total secret.  Neither of them are really out and Jack isn't ready for that right now, but it's okay if their friends find out. They'll tell Shitty and Lardo, along with Jack's parents because they're both kind of perfect, but that's everyone they're telling. 

They don't plan on this being a fling.

 Shitty keeps making faces at them, but Lardo is hitting the back of his head enough that it evens out. The four of them are quietly placing bets on how long it will be until the rest of the team figures it out.

It’s so nice, that when Eric gets back to the Haus, he doesn’t formulate a witty tweet. He only says they’re home. Jack only drops his bag off in his room. They sleep in Eric’s bed that night and the night after. 

 

\-----

 

The banquet is two weeks later. Eric smiles around at his team, and shakes his head at how well they clean up. Chowder, it turns out, has no idea how to tie a tie. It starts out as a hot mess but somehow everyone on his team, including the boys Eric usually only sees for games and kegsters, gets to the Clubhouse without looking like they just came from a pub. 

Jack has the senior speech and everyone on their line keep taking deep breaths in an attempt to look like proper bros. 

None of them are proper bros. All of them are crying just a little. 

 

Awards are presented. Some kid that Eric doesn’t know very well gets an award and Eric is happy for him. They announce Captain last and Eric sits there trying to figure it out because this year he just doesn’t know. Ransom? Holster? Ransom and Holster at the same time? Somebody on one of the other lines he doesn’t know as well? Coach Murray goes through a speech about how the captain leads the team on and off the ice and Eric tries to sit casually but this is going to be his  _captain_  for the entire year. 

“The captain for the 2015-2016 is…” 

Eric looks around, judging for his teammates reactions.  It’s probably Ransom and/or Holster. 

But it’s not. 

“Eric Bittle.” 

 

Eric freezes for a moment, because he’s got to be hearing that wrong. He’s not captain. He’s the tag along. He bakes pies for his team. He’s a good player, but not good enough for captain. 

“Bitty?” Lardo asks. “You gotta get up bro.” 

Eric wakes up from his daze because he’s going to be his own captain this fall  _holy shit._ “My goodness,” he breathes. 

This is going to  _his_ team next year. He shifts, because he didn’t plan on this. He has nothing planned. He's a giant train wreck. 

“Thank you, for choosing me. I didn’t even know I was in any kind of running, so I don’t have any speech. But, I do know that this team means the world to me. This team can do fantastic things together. I’m not going to be like Jack, I can’t. But I’m going to try and be the best Captain I can be for this team.” 

Eric sits back down and his team claps and Eric has a moment of  _holy shit_ because this is going to be his team. 

 

\-----

 

Things are wonderfully great until Betsy breaks. Eric finds himself laying on the ground with his head against the oven door whining like a dog. This is how Jack and Shits find him when they return from their run.

Maybe, if he just stays on the ground a little longer, his oven will wake up and everything will be fine.  

“Uh, Bitty?” Jack asks. “Are you alright?” 

Eric is quiet for a moment. “No.” 

Jack and Shitty both sit heavily on the ground. They’re sweaty, they smell, and they both look like they’re considering if the next step is to give Eric a hug. “Did something happen?” Jack asks. He’s confused but not so concerned that he’s calling Lardo yet. 

“Betsy’s not well.” Eric finally says. Shitty sighs loudly and Jack turns his head like a confused puppy. 

“Is that an aunt?” Jack asks slowly. 

Shitty pulls at his hair with one hand and set’s the other on Bitty’s shoulder. “Jack, you beautiful disaster, Betsy is Eric’s oven.” 

 

Eric texts Dex between classes and then after his classes are does he waits outside of Will’s building. His fingers fly over his screen and he watches the little clock in the corner until it’s two minutes past Dex’s class being done. He sends the message. 

Bitty: you almost done 

Dex: its been less than five minutes you need to calm down

Dex: really bitty? really?

Bitty: you said you would look at betsy

Dex: pls calm ur tits

Bitty: BUT MY OVEN

Dex: pls

Dex: I have to talk to my professor give me five more minutes

 

Somehow, Eric survives waiting for Dex to get out of class and he finds himself waiting instead in the kitchen, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Will inspects his oven. 

“Do you have the verdict?” He asks. 

Will sighs, because he thinks of Eric as a friend and Eric feeds him so he can’t get too mad. “If you hover, I can’t fix your oven. I’ll give you an update in a bit.” 

Eric goes up to his room and he doesn’t listen to any music, because as soon as Betsy is fixed he’s making a pie to soothe his soul. 

Betsy doesn’t get fixed, they’ll have to limp her along for a while. 

 

 

\-----

 

 

Jack signs that same evening. Eric tries not to pry in. This is Jack’s NHL team. He doesn’t have the facts about the teams and it would be selfish to hope for the Falconers just because they’re close. Eric has no idea what the team is like or if Jack liked them or if he wanted to be home, in Montreal. So he steps back and waits for Jack to tell him. 

It happens when they’re getting ready for bed, curling up in Eric’s room because Shitty doesn’t understand the meaning of privacy and sleeping is so much nicer when they’re warm and together. 

“I signed a team.” Jack say as they climb into bed, stripped down to their shorts. Eric pauses in the middle of plugging in his phone. 

“Oh.” He says. He sets his phone down and turns back towards Jack because this feels like a moment where Jack should have his full attention. “Are you happy with your decision?” 

Jack sits and he’s confident, but careful, like he’s unsure of what other people will think, what Eric will think.  “I am.” He says, and that’s enough for Eric, because even if Jack’s far away Eric just wants him to be happy. 

“So, Mr. NHL.” Eric says, his accent flaring up as he scoots closer to Jack so they’re pressed thigh to thigh. “Would you like to tell me what team I’m gonna be cheering on next year, and when I can buy a hoodie with your number on it?” 

"You're buying a hoodie?" Jacks asks, a smile in his voice. "You're going to buy a hoodie with my number on it?" 

"'Course I will. It won't be like now when I'm able to take your jersey whenever I want."

 "My sweater." 

"Jack, dear, please don't ruin the moment."

They bump sides and Bitty lays his head on Jack's shoulder. "Where'd you sign, sweetheart?" he asks again. 

"Providence."

Eric sits up. "You signed with the Falconers?"

Jack nods. "I signed with the Falconers." 

Eric surges into a kiss and they turn into a pile of bumped noses, congratulations, scattered kisses and  _I'm sorry_ s. They're a beautiful mess. 

"Congratulations," Eric says, and it feels redundant but Jack laughs so it’s worth it. 

"Thank you," he says. "My mom's coming next week to help me pick out an apartment. Do you want to come with or do you want to stay here?” 

Eric cuffs Jack in the side. “I think you’ll be alright without me, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. What if I get a kitchen that’s too small?” Jack chirps with a nose beside Eric’s ear. Eric pushes Jack over and Jack falls into pillows. 

“I think you'll manage.” 

 

Alicia stays for a day and a half and Eric is reminded why he loves Jack’s mom. She texts him pictures of kitchens and chirps just as well as anyone on Eric’s team. She also brings Eric more fruit preserves, because she assumed he’d want some. 

Eric really loves Jack’s mom. 

Jack ends up buying an apartment with three bedrooms and a good kitchen full of stainless appliances. The master is big enough for a king sized bed and Jack is already talking about  _when_  Eric comes to visit and every once and a while Eric is just hit with an overwhelming hope that they don’t mess this up because he really likes this boy. He likes him a lot and they haven’t even been dating for a month but Eric doesn’t ever want Jack to leave. 

Montreal is not allowed to have him back. 

 

\-----

 

They wake up the morning of Spring C and they’re both in bed because it’s Saturday and there’s no class but somehow Shitty is still handing Bitty a mimosa. There’s also a beer for Jack. “Morning, boys,” Shitty says before climbing back out the window. Jack takes the mimosa from Eric before he can spill it all over the sheets. 

“What?” Eric asks, still groggy. 

Jack laughs, because Bitty is adorable and he’s a little more sleep deprived than could be expected. That's Jack's fault, but whatever. 

“You should probably get dressed,” Jack prompts. “And then, you should probably eat breakfast.” 

“Are you going to be alright?” Eric asks automatically. “We can leave if you want to. I mean, It’s going to be loud and there’s gonna be lots of people and the whole campus is gonna be drunk so we can leave if you want to. We could listen to the music later.” He smiles at Jack and he truthfully doesn’t mind. They could just go somewhere else and skate or they could listen to their own music, because Jack has a strange love for eighties rock and current bubble gum pop. It wouldn’t be a big deal to miss out on Spring C. He wants to go, but this is the whole give and take thing. 

“I’ll be fine. I promise.” Jack says. The look in Jack’s eyes is sure and Eric trusts him so he shimmies into the too-short shorts that Lardo insisted he buy for Spring C. 

It turns out that Jack is the only one that is completely fine for the duration of Spring C. Next year, Bitty is going to be mostly sober so he doesn’t lose any athletes. 

 

Between the hours of noon and nine in the evening, Eric gets completely shitfaced. Some of the few things he remembers are very emotional conversations about the quality of his booty and Jack taking pictures of him that can’t all have been for homework. Because Jack can’t always have him be the subject of his assignments. Eric also thinks that Jack might have gone on his twitter, but he’s not sure. He’s also lost a shoe, something that doesn’t have anything to do with his twitter, but it’s harder to think with one shoe. 

His first, very flawed thought, is to find Jack, because Jack will help him find his shoes. 

He finds Jack sitting on the porch talking with Lardo, who seems to be handling her alcohol much better than he is. Eric sits down heavily, startling everyone on the porch. Jack stifles a laugh into his hand, but doesn’t catch a snort. 

“How drunk are you?” 

“I lost a shoe,” Eric says conversationally, like that answers everything. “Where’s my phone?” 

Jack passes the iPhone over, because Eric set it down in-between coolers and Jack was pretty sure it would be a good idea to go pick it up. 

"Lardo helped me post the picture of you and Shitty. Your fans seem to think it's cool." 

"My hero!" Eric says before bumping Jack in the side. They don't hold hands, because even drunk Eric can see that there are lots of people around and almost all of them have cameras. Sitting next to each other is nice though. 

They sit on the porch with Lardo for another hour, and then they move out closer towards the stage. As Bitty is missing a shoe and Jack is a tall, strong, individual, Eric sits on Jack's shoulders. 

He's never going to live it down, but it’s nice, because they're holding hands now without it looking out of place and Jack's swaying slightly to the beat. It's not bad. They stay out until one, and Bitty doesn’t actually remember walking to bed. 

 

The hangover the next day is hellish.

"I am never doin' that again," Eric whispers. Jack sits next to him on the bed, careful not to jar him. 

"I wouldn't recommend it," Jack says before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Eric's forehead. "I'm going to watch a documentary, wanna snuggle?"

Eric scoots over to give Jack room. "Let's hope you cure hangovers." 

Jack doesn't cure hangovers, but Eric does manage to sleep, so it’s a win on that front. 

 

\-----

 What are they doing that requires them to take his phone

Finals week, a couple weeks later, is sleepless and stressful. Eric's last final falls on his birthday. 

His friends will not let him return to his Haus, Jack’s forgotten his birthday, and it's  _harshing his mellow._

Breakfast with Lardo, final, and lunch with Ransom and Holster.

Even his 2/3 of his frogs are in on it. Chowder will not let him back in his Haus.  _Chowder._

Eric is only sure that they are not messing with the couch because they would not keep him out of the Haus for the couch. It doesn't take that long to move a couch. What are they doing that requires them to take his phone? 

If somebody dumps sports drinks on him, he’s gonna be pissed. 

Nursey takes a picture of him and Chowder together outside the Haus. Chowder looks like he’s going to bounce outside of his skin, he’s so excited that Eric can’t help but smile even though he’s stressed and tired and sleep deprived. Farmer’s standing behind Derek laughing and Eric isn’t sure what they have planned but whatever they’re doing they’re excited about  _something_. 

Chowder pulls him into the house and Eric isn’t sure what he’s saying, but Nursey’s fingers are flying so he knows it’s getting recorded. 

It’s gotta be a surprise party or something similar, right? There’s no other reason that the entire team would be in his kitchen. 

He hasn’t been able to bake in nearly a week, why are they all in his kitchen?

Dex, Shitty, and Jack move out from in front of Betsy and-

It’s not Betsy. 

 

There is an oven too nice for the Haus in place of Betsy, beside a very sweaty Dex and a proud pair of bros. 

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three heartbeats. 

Eric pinches his arm. The oven doesn’t even disappear. 

“Oh dear Lord,” Eric says, hands covering his face in an attempt to cover up the tears he can feel streaming down his face. “You guys.” 

“It’s your kitchen, Captain.” Shitty says before pulling Bitty into a hug. 

He somehow gets his entire line into the kitchen and hugs every one of them, babbling all the way. He starts with Dex, because the boy is sweaty and in need of a beer and a fresh shirt.The line ends with Jack so he can linger a little longer then. 

“I have to bake something right this second,” Eric says, squishing his cheek to Jack’s chest. 

“Stop crying first,” Jack insists with a smile. He doesn’t kiss Eric, because there are too many people in the Haus and this looks like it’s turning towards a Kegster, but later. 

 

Later, after Eric has gotten to know his new oven, he’s made a batch of cookies, a batch of mini-pies, and a beautiful peach tart he’s taken pictures of before cutting into, Eric is finally taking a break to dance. Jack's been avoiding most of the party so he can keep Bitty company in the kitchen. They’ve been going through equal parts conversation and chirping, because neither of them can go more than ten minutes without a chirp. 

The music changes and Bitty stalls because this is his music. From his laptop in his room. He can feel himself turning deep red because this music isn’t supposed to leave his laptop. 

He doesn’t care that B. Knight is drunk, he’s going to be dead because this is Eric’s country music for when he’s feeling homesick. 

“Bitty.” 

Bitty turns and Jack is smiling at him, exhaling as he holds out a hand. The party’s winding down, the Haus is mostly empty. Eric nods as he steps forward to take his boyfriend’s hand. 

Their hands fold together and they sway to the music. 

“Darlin’,” Bitty starts.

“Babe,” Jack cuts off. 

Bitty giggles. “Sweetheart.” 

“Dear.” 

“Honeybun.” 

“Yes?” Jack asks with a grin. Bitty knocks him in the shoulder. 

“Thank you.” Eric says. “Thank you, for the oven and for spending the evening with me.” 

“Of course.” 

They sway for another minute or two, before Jack yawns. Eric looks over at the clock on his new oven. Three am. “Tired?” Eric asks, trying not to laugh. 

Jack tries to shake it off. “Give me a second.” Eric takes a step back and Jack stumbles without Bitty to hold him up. “Okay, bed.” 

Eric gently prompts Jack up the stairs and ignores the charade Shitty’s doing to ask if he’s getting birthday booty. They’ve got plenty of time for that later. 

\-----

May isn’t supposed to go so fast. They’re supposed to have time. They’re supposed to have time for sleepy Sundays and walks on the quad. They’re supposed to have time for dicking around at midnight and sneaking out to get ice cream. The month isn’t supposed to go so fast. Bitty doesn’t know where all of the time went but it’s the day before graduation and he doesn’t want to go to bed because that means Jack’s leaving tomorrow afternoon. 

Somewhere around two am, tangled up in sheets and sweat and curled up in each other, Jack whispers in the middle of the night. 

“This isn’t going to fall apart, is it?” Jack asks and he sounds so scared in the dark that Eric has to fight the urge to turn on a light. Instead, he rolls over, sits up, and pulls Jack a little closer. 

“Hey,” he says. “You look at me, Zimmermann.” 

Jack sits up and Eric reaches out and grabs Jack's hands. Jack grips back like a lifeline. “I’ve got you. You got me?” 

“I have you.” Jack says, quiet but sure. 

“Then this isn’t going anywhere. We text all the time anyways, and we’ll see each other again in August.” Eric stops to breath and Jack leans forwards to rest his head on Eric’s shoulder. 

“We’re good?” Jack asks again, just to make sure. 

“We’re good,” Bitty assures. 

 

Jack deflates, for just a moment. “Sorry.” He breathes against skin. 

“Nothin’ to apologize for.” Eric insists. “You want a glass of water?” 

Jack shakes his head. “Just, lay down with me?”

Eric waits for Jack to lay down and then curls up close. Jack pulls up the covers around them and they sleep. 

 

The next morning is better. They get up, because there's no time to lay around in bed. Eric hip checks Jack in the kitchen during breakfast and Jack assures him that he's okay. 

Graduation takes forever, but the hockey team is a bunch of proud ducks so they wait it out. 

The boys graduate and everyone tries not to cry. 

About a dozen of them go out to eat afterwards and Jack and Bitty pretend they're not holding hands under the table. 

It's weird talking to Bad Bob this time, because he's not some abstract stranger. He's his boyfriend's dad. For a while, Eric just listens. Then Bob asks him about his season and his plans for being Captain.

 Eric talks about his preseason plans that he doesn’t really need to have yet, because it’s May, and he talks about the tadpoles he met briefly and the positions he thinks they’ll do well in. He talks about the over planning and how he’s not sure how he’s going to get through the preseason. Afterwards, Bob inquires about Eric’s mom and asks about his dad because he still hasn’t met Coach. 

“Mama’s good,” Eric says. “I talked to her the day before yesterday.” He hesitates. “I think Coach is good too. She didn’t say anything different.”

Bob doesn’t say anything else on the subject and Eric takes a calming breath. “Hey B!” He calls, because yelling  _Shitty_ across a table is not the most bro thing to do. “How long do you think it’s going to be before the Entirety of Harvard bows before your flow?” 

Shitty grins, toothy and proud. “I’ll give 'em a week.” 

\-----

Jack leaves and Eric goes home for summer. Time starts to split. 

He’s in Montreal for two weeks, only for family responsibilities. Jack doesn’t have any siblings, but he has a dozen cousins, so it’s a full house for a few days. 

Eventually, his family does ask him what he bought with his signing bonus, because they knew these things with his dad and expect to know them with him. His dad bought his mom a wedding ring, what did Jack buy. 

He turns beat red, because he’s always been that person, the person with the flush down his neck and his heart on his sleeve. Jack swallows, because his throat is thick and he can barely breathe. 

“I bought an oven.” He says. “I bought an oven for the Haus at Samwell.” 

Jack’s cousin, Joshua teases him about it for a good half hour before Jack can get away. He loves his family whole family, but they’re exhausting. He’s drained and he’s homesick in his childhood home. He wants to go back home. 

He sneaks up to his room and exhales for the first time in hours. Jack opens up his phone and scrolls through the notifications and group texts that have been sent to him throughout the day, because his friends are all on their phones all the time.

Apparently, for a brief moment, Shitty considered joining the Harvard team for ice time. Then, hell came down, and Jack isn’t sure where the vines of Ransom and Holster screaming started. Bitty has apparently assured Shitty that he can use Faber as long as Ransom and Holster  _stop_. 

Bitty: im trying to teach a summer camp and yall are blown’ up my phone. 

Bitty: just stop. pls

Shitty: THIS HAS TO BE SORTED OUT NOW

Shitty: WHAT IF I CAN’T SKATE AT ALL FOR THREE YEARS

Shitty: THREE MOTHERFUCKING YEARS

Bitty: Shits

Shitty: BITS

Bitty: RANSOM WILL YOU STOP WITH THE VINES. 

Ransom: WILL THIS MOTHERFUCKER YIELD?

Bitty: I HAVE A SOLUTION YOU’RE EATING MY DATA

Bitty: I have two other people to call after lights out tonight if you keep this up I will end all yall

Shitty: This is IMPORTANT BITS

 

From there, the conversation cuts off and Jack can’t really help but smile. He keys into Bitty’s number and sends a quick message. It’s late, so he’s not even sure if Bitty’s still up, but he keeps his phone out anyways. 

*

Bitty’s phone buzzes after lights out and he tiptoes out onto the rickety porch of the cabin. His Counselor-in-Training has promised that he has the kids and gestured for Bitty to leave. “Hey,” he whispers, because even though the kids are supposed to be sleeping, he knows he wasn’t asleep at lights out on the first night when he was their age. 

“How was your first day with kids?” Jack asks, a smile in his voice. 

Eric sighs. “There are ten eleven year old boys in this cabin and none of them have any idea what table manners are. None of them. Do you think I can teach ten boys manners?” 

“Have you ever met an eleven year old boy? Were you ever eleven Bitty?” Jack chirps with a laugh. 

“I was eleven for like, ten minutes, then I was sixteen and had the manners of a southern gentlemen.” 

“Bitty, I don’t think manners are going to happen.” 

Bitty whines, for just a minute. “Fine.” He finally settles. “How’s your past few days been?” He pauses. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Well,” Jack starts. “My family hasn’t driven me crazy yet so I think I’m going to be okay.” 

“Really.” Bitty drawls. “That’s a wonderfully positive outlook on things.” 

“I’m a positive person.” 

 

Eric snorts. “Alright dear.” Eric sighs as he reclines against the wooden deck. “Any other plans for tonight?” 

“I’ve probably got to go back to the swarm of cousins in a minute.” Jack says dramatically. 

Eric giggles. “You poor baby. I’m gonna get to bed. Text you tomorrow?” 

“Of course.” Jack says and It’s a promise. 

 

\-----

They make phone calls and time passes and Jack gets to know his team. 

He's okay with most of them. On the other hand, there's a first year winger on one of the other lines who needles Jack about drugs and alcohol during practice because Jack's been at college for four years and nobody knows how he holds his temper. 

One of the defensemen on Jack's line has enough one day and takes the kid out. The kids bruised and battered, but their coach isn't too mad because nothing is actually broken. 

The guy introduces himself as  _James Jones, call me Joney._

"I could have kicked his ass last week." Jack says in the locker room. "You didn't have to do that."

Joney rolls his eyes. "He's been getting on my nerves and you don't need the bullshit." Joney pulls on a tee shirt as Jack searches in his bag for his clean socks. "Wanna grab lunch? We’ve got the afternoon off?” 

Jack hesitates, because he’s not sure if he’s ready to actually make friends with his team yet. But, Joney has already bloodied his knuckles for him today so Jack kind of feels like he owes him. So lunch. With his new team. It’s a great idea. 

 

It’s not as bad as Jack originally anticipates, most of the Falconers are giant nerds. They also play golf so at least that’s something to talk about. Of course, you can’t really talk about golf for an hour and a half, but it’s a conversation starter. 

Kids younger than Jack are calling him Kid and he’s calling them Kid back in retaliation before they all agree to stop because they’re all getting confused. Who is the actual child in the situation? Nobody knows. 

Then they start talking about significant others and Jack doesn’t leave, because that would be awkward, but it’s a close thing. 

A good two thirds of his team has girlfriends or wives. The rest of them are out looking for chicks. Jack is confused in general on why you would want to do that but he’s just going to keep his mouth shut. Because in theory, if his mouth is shut, he doesn't exist.

“So Zimmermann, you lookin’ for a girl?”

Jack can hear Shitty screaming about how disgustingly that was presented all the way at Harvard. 

"I'm not looking for a girlfriend." He says after a sip of his soda. “I’m happy with the way things are.” 

*

Eric holds his phone to his ear with his shoulder carrying his bags into his room. “So, that means it was good, right?” he asks. “You had a good time?” 

“Yeah. I did. It was actually kinda weird,” Jack says, a funny kind of affection in his voice. “They’re a good group of guys.” Jack clears his throat a little over the phone. “How was your plane back to Samwell?” 

“Well, I got in about an hour ago,” Eric says. “I have not yet made a single pie, I have plays to go over, and I need a nap I’m not sure I’m going to get.” He pauses for a moment and his voice doesn’t shake when he speaks again. He takes it as a victory. “I came out to my parents this morning.” 

Eric is quiet so Jack pauses for a second. “How’d it go?” He asks 

Bitty sets his bags down on his bed and sits down in his desk chair. 

“My Mama’s good,” He says. “She’s proud of me for telling her.  Coach is better than I thought he would be. He just kinda nodded at me before we left, the  _I’m not sure what to say but Good Job Son_ nod. I think things are going to be alright”

 “Are  _you_  alright?” Jack asks, and it’s the most awkward thing that comes out of his mouth in a while, his words all stilted and twisted. 

Eric laughs quietly. “I think so. Lardo’s waiting in her room to bro me into some  _Welcome-Back Froyo_. I don’t think she ever went to Boston.” 

Jack breathes over the phone. “I love you.” He says it without thinking, like it’s something he’s going to say for the rest of his life. After a half moment of the word being out in the air Jack starts to sputter out some kind of apology. 

Bitty feels his cheeks heat up because this is a new and welcome development. He cuts Jack off. “Hey, I love you too. See you this weekend?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

\-----

It’s different walking into the locker room for their first game as Captain. They're training well, but that doesn’t really matter if they don’t do well in their season. They need to actually win a game before Bitty’ll be able to sleep again. Eric takes off his earphones and stashes his phone in his bag. He exchanges glances with Chowder and Chowder grins, like he doesn’t have a single doubt this game is theirs. 

The tadpoles look at him like he’s not really captain, even after seeing him skate. He’s not sure this jersey is supposed to be his. 

He walks out to the bench and starts to lace up his skates and he repeats the lyrics to his pregame playlist in his head. 

Nursey settles down beside him on the bench, bulked up with padding. “Captain.” He says with a nod that’s probably a chirp. Bitty waves and breathes because this is him focusing. 

They have to get on the ice now and they have to move now. 

They have to do somewhat well because this game is going to set their season. Dear lord, their season. 

The crowd cheers and feeling the ice beneath his skates, Eric relaxes a little, because skating has always been his safe space. Now, he’s just going to hit somebody in the face at the same time. He skates out into the middle of the ice and moves into the center position for the puck to drop. Tadpoles fall in on either side of him and Bitty suddenly doesn’t feel so small. His shoulders straighten out. He holds the stick a little more comfortably and he squares up in front of the opposing center. 

He’s got this. His team has this. They can do this. 

*

The Haus party afterwards is loud and very enthusiastic. It’s a good representation of their team. After being dragged around the rest of the Haus by six defense men ( _It’_ s _your duty as Captain to take a fuckin’ selfie Bits. We won our first game, are you going to deprive your poor followers of not knowing?)_  Eric has finally pulled himself back to his kitchen. 

He’s tired, but it’s a good kind of tired. It’s a proud tired. 

He gets out a bowl and he starts mixing up simple peanut butter cookies because as soon as people smell his oven they will not be able to wait long enough for a pie. He reminds himself that making a triple batch of cookies is not absurd when there are this many people in the Haus. There are people passing through his kitchen left and right and usually Eric would be a little bit irritated but tonight is different. Tonight there is a hockey induced high. 

 

There’s a faint sound of the door opening and closing and somebody hollers at the top of their lungs. Bitty takes off his apron and sticks his head out of his kitchen to check it out. He smiles and leans against the door as Ransom makes a show of taking of his shoe for Jack to sign and asking for an autograph. The party continues rolling and the boys affectionately rough Jack up a bit. Lardo hugs him before going up to her room. Bitty thinks she has a test tomorrow. 

"Hey," Bitty says, grinning, before a timer beeps. "You wanna follow me in here, hotshot? I'll be done in fifteen."

Jack tries to get something out before one of the tadpoles pulls him across the room. Eric stifles a laugh before returning to pull his cookies out of the oven. 

Eric throws the last of the cookies in the oven and tosses the dishes in the sink with hot water to soak. 

“Is that my shirt?” Jack asks from the doorway. 

Eric turns and Jack is leaning against the frame, arms crossed, eyes fond. “Do you want it back?” Bitty teases.  The button-up is big enough that he has to wear an undershirt underneath, but it felt like a good thing. For luck or something sentimental, like Jack would be there with them. Nobody’s noticed that his shirt is two sizes two big. He might have to take more.

Jack shakes his head slowly. “I think you can keep that one for a while.” He says, a little bit in awe. He steps forward and hooks his fingers into the loops of Eric’s jeans. “So, after those cookies come out of the oven, do you wanna go upstairs?” 

Bitty smiles, bright and warm. “I think I can handle that.” 

 

\-----

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's my birthday in a couple weeks and I decided to write a sugar coma's worth of fluff as a present to myself.  
> [ i-was-a-teenage-fangirl](http://sohma.co.vu/) is a great beta and is probably the main reason this makes sense.  
> [tumblr](http://limeadepeels.tumblr.com/)


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